


I Know I’m Not The Only One

by kneesocksnarry



Series: You and Me [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Harry, Dom/sub Undertones, Harry has a lot of feelings, Infidelity, Light Smut, Lots of kissing, M/M, Sugar Baby Harry, Top Niall, harry is in university, niall speaks french so grab your dictionaries, slight hints of sugar daddy niall, sugar daddy with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 04:36:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kneesocksnarry/pseuds/kneesocksnarry
Summary: Harry is twenty-one, and Niall is married.





	I Know I’m Not The Only One

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know french lol I hope google translate doesn’t make me look like an idiot. (Title is taken from the infamous sam smith song).

Harry’s heart is _hammering_ in his ears. His half-lidded vision is hazy and his legs feel like they do when he completes a ten mile run on his detox days. His quickened breath is short of a panic and his entire body is melting into the champagne Manito silk sheets—his personal favorite set. There’s a thin layer of sweat that dews across his chest and forehead while the rest has begun to pool on his upper lip. 

His stomach finally begins to uncoil and he grips at the bicep of the other body in bed with him.

The older man sucks tiny kisses where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder, then lavishing his tongue over the pink spots he creates.

“ _Vous êtes si belle,_ ” he breathes against Harry’s neck, “My beautiful boy.”

Harry’s lips quirked in a smile as he basks in the attention that the older man knows he yearns for. He loves it and it only makes him want more.

Harry encircles the man’s neck with his arms and he pulls him closer so they can kiss. He could kiss him for an eternity if his life allowed him to, but he had exams to take and papers to write and there just wasn’t nearly enough time in the day.

The man sucks on Harry’s upper lip, tasting his salty sweat. He surges forward again and tosses his tongue into their kiss. Harry hums, contently, and spreads his legs apart so their bodies could slot together. The older man took his chance and reached his hand down to grab hold of Harry’s dick.

“Niall,” Harry whines into the kiss, “I just came, _please_ give me twenty minutes before we go again.” 

Niall laughs against his collarbone before rolling onto his back, but takes Harry with him until he has him straddling his hips. Niall stares up at Harry with his soft blue eyes that first slowly drag up Harry’s entire body making sure to memorize every new scratch and bump he may have not noticed earlier.

“Then tell me about your day,” Niall’s thumbs massage over Harry’s hip bones, “How are classes going?”

Harry smiles; he knows Niall just wants to hear him talk. So he talks while Niall listens, and Niall listens _so_ well. He never takes his eyes off of Harry and he asks questions and makes comments at all the right pauses, while Harry mindlessly plays with his blond hair.

“My philosophy class is my favorite so far.”

“ _Philosophie,_ ” Niall grins.

“ _Oui!_ ” Harry leans down and kisses Niall square on the lips.

Harry is a fourth year philosophy major at NYU, and every day he spent with Niall made him want to minor in French a little more. Niall had told him that he moved to France the moment he turned eighteen and spent five glorious years learning the ins and outs of building a business. Hence, why he spoke in French frequently. It’s out of habit, he would say.

Harry summarizes the lectures he’s attended so far, animatedly explaining what texts they have read and what he thought they were meant to teach them. Niall was mesmerized by Harry’s natural charm and charisma, but was equally encaptured by his hunger and strive for knowledge. _Beauté et cerveaux._

Niall mindlessly kneads and touches the supple skin of Harry’s backside and butt. He felt so warm having this boy in his lap, all to himself in intimate and compromising ways, that sometimes words fell from his mouth without his control.

“ _Vous êtes mon seul et unique,_ ” Niall says with adoration in his eyes.

Harry freezes, but Niall’s hands continue to rub up and down his thighs.

_You are my one and only._

Harry knows those words aren’t true. He’s heard him say this so many times, and it only fuels his awareness that this bed does not belong to him and his body isn’t the only one that bathes in these expensive sheets.

He is not the only person Niall holds at night, because Niall did not entirely belong to him.

Niall was far from the single twenty-nine year old bachelor that Harry had hoped he would be when he met him at an event and then again at a crowded bar later that night. Niall is married. A wife and no kids (thankfully), but still bound to another the way Harry dreams to be with him one day.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Sleeping with a married man in the same bed that his wife excitably jumps into every night with her assumed faithful husband. He doesn’t want to be the homewrecker, but he doesn’t want to let go of Niall either, especially now that he’s gotten a taste of what it’s like to be with him.

“I should probably head back to my place,” Harry says shakily and attempts to roll off Niall but the blond’s grip is too tight. “It’s almost five.”

“Baby, we still have time,” Niall glances at his wristwatch and holds Harry’s hip firmly with the other hand. “She won’t be here for another two hours.”

“I know,” Harry sighs, closing his eyes, “but I’ve got a huge paper due this week and I won’t have time around classes much this week,” he rambles.

Niall’s shoulders sag and he nods sadly with a pout on his lips. 

“And she almost caught us last week, Niall,” Harry continues, “We can’t be losing track of time like that anymore.”

They were lucky in more ways than not that day. Lucky that Harry’s university is so close to Niall’s home. Lucky that Harry’s Tuesday class got cancelled and that of all days, Niall had decided to let his executive assistant hold down the ship that is his Irish-beer company for the day. They were lucky that Niall had just bought more lube the night before, because the blond’s lube stash had been completely annihilated during their weekend rendezvous. 

Things that they were not lucky with that day: timing.

Niall was too focused on getting his dick sucked that the hours flew over his head, and once they were in the shower together—giggling and kissing—is when they heard Niall’s wife calling out for him.

It took Niall a solid ten seconds to answer that he was in the shower, but he was relatively calm compared to Harry. The younger of the two was in a state of panic; his eyes were rimmed with tears and he shakily repeated _What do we do, Niall?_ as he mentally deteriorated at the thought of losing all connection with his informal boyfriend.

Niall immediately wrapped him in his arms because he knew Harry well enough to know that he didn’t do well under pressure. The water continued to beat against their bodies as they held each other for hopefully not the last time.

Once the water was shut off, Niall walked out first to distract his wife with something downstairs, and Harry quickly got dressed—minus his underwear because who knows where they were—then slung his bag across his chest and left without a sound.

They were lucky Niall’s wife decided to immediately start dinner that night, instead of heading upstairs to the mess of another man’s clothes strung across the floor of her and Niall’s bedroom.

“It won’t happen again,” Niall says. He soothingly brushes the hair off Harry’s forehead and leans forward to leave a kiss between his eyebrows. “And I’m not the only one to blame here. _You_ were the one begging to get fucked in _trois_ different positions,” Niall reminds him with a smirk.

Harry’s cheeks heat up and he has to look away from Niall, because he knows it’s true. Harry can be insatiable when he has Niall all to himself, but the older man loves the continuous sex and the youthful enthusiasm his boy brings to the bedroom.

“Don’t exaggerate,” Harry rolls his eyes, trying to remain nonchalant.

“Me? Exaggerate?” Niall laughs breathily.

He leans over to his bedside table to grab something from the bottom drawer. He sits back up with a black garment in his hands that he then drops in Harry’s lap.

“You left your underwear in my bed. Fucked you so good that you couldn’t even remember to put them back on, huh?”

Harry picks up the briefs, which are in fact his, then slaps his hands over his face in embarrassment. “Shut up.”

 

\--- 

Harry goes home that night, and he cries. He cries because he’s upset, and he’s upset because he can’t have Niall in the way he wants him. Not right now, that is, but he doesn’t know exactly when the older man will belong to him.

\---

It’s a month later when Harry finally reaches a breaking point.

He and Niall had been doing their usual back-and-forths behind _her_ back. Any free moment they had, that wasn’t spent at work or school, was spent with each other. Niall barely saw his wife, blaming work when she asked, and Harry almost forgot Niall wasn’t entirely his. 

Almost.

Niall had texted him that morning to come by his place if he had time. Harry wasn’t exactly busy; he did have his class at noon, but it was just a lecture and he was already ahead on the reading. So, he decides to go see Niall because maybe getting fucked until he’s sore is his way of unwinding for the day.

Half past eleven, Harry makes his way up to Niall’s apartment. He shoots him a quick text that he is here, and then rang the bell once he reached his door. He shoves his phone in the back pocket of his black jeans that Niall has said are his favorite on him, and pats around to make sure he has his wallet.

The door opens and Harry is met with a women showcasing wide brown eyes and a gentle smile.

“Hello?” she greets him.

“Hi,” Harry says barely above a whisper.

He has never met, nor seen her before. He has never had an inkling of what she looked like or what she sounded like, and that had made it so much easier to do what he was doing. But now? Now he felt like his heart is crumbling and everything that he was hoping for is just so much more unattainable because he has finally witnessed the reality. Niall does not belong to him, and he will never be Niall’s one and only.

Her expectant eyes wait for Harry to stutter an explanation for why he’s there, but he doesn’t get the chance because Niall is pulling the door open farther. White t-shirt and blue jeans snugly caress his body and it’s no wonder why people are so enticed by this man. He’s gorgeous.

“Harry!” Niall smiles, “I see you’ve met Emily already.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth twitches up and he forces an airy chuckle.

“Emily, this is Harry, a new intern down at work, and Harry, this is my wife, Emily.”

_Lies._

Niall gestures between the two and Harry cautiously reaches out to shake Emily’s hand. Harry knew to play along since he was rendered speechless and couldn’t even answer for himself since the door opened.

“I asked him to come over so we could plow through some paperwork I’ve knowingly been ignoring.”

_Liar._

“Oh! So nice to meet you,” Emily says, “Come in, would you like anything to drink?”

How could Harry hate this woman? She seemed sweet and caring, and here he was with a false pretense of who he was and showing up with the inclination of getting fucked by her husband while she was gone.

“Em, don’t worry I’ll get him all settled,” Niall quickly answered, making room for his lover to enter the apartment. “You just head to work.”

Harry walked in the door and he turned his back to the two when Emily leaned forward to kiss Niall goodbye. He doesn’t know where the kiss lands and he doesn’t want to know… ever. This feels like hell to have to witness the dynamics of their relationship when he has his own ties to Niall that nobody knows about. It’s torture.

He hears them whisper for a bit until the door closes and footsteps near him, before two arms wrap around his waist. Niall hugs him tightly and then silently moves to squeeze Harry’s hips and rake over the side of his body, up his back and to his shoulder blades with his large hands. Niall wastes no time in leaving kisses at the back of Harry’s neck, breathing in his scent while Harry very hesitantly allows him to, although his body is noncompliant.

This doesn’t feel right. Harry’s body is rigidly tense that not even Niall’s attention and soft touches can make him relax. What we don’t see, we don’t know. But once you _do_ see, once you are completely aware of something you’ve never wanted to know about, it becomes so tantalizingly real that the possibility of forgetting is impracticable to the point of torment.

He didn’t want to see her. For as long as he was foreseeably going to be with Niall, he never wanted to know what she looked like, smelled like, or what her voice sounded like. The small diamond necklace resting on her collarbones is forever imprinted in Harry’s mind. Her soft voice filled his ears like water would when submerged in a pool. The perfume that wafted through the air when Harry walked passed her still burns his nostrils and leaves his throat feeling locked.

“I got you something,” Niall breathes against Harry’s neck, running his nose through his hair once more before letting go. “Follow me.”

Niall walks out of the room and Harry’s body has shifted to autopilot. His body is stiff but his numb legs remain obedient and slowly follow Niall up the stairs, presumably towards the bedroom.

Harry finds Niall in the bedroom, his eyes look at the neat bed and empty laundry basket in the corner and he just doesn’t think his heart could handle it if the room was in disarray. He sits at the edge of the bed and begs his mind not to think about the fact that Niall is quite certainly having sex with his wife, and Harry is his daily seconds.

The older man holds up a small, rectangular black box in his hand and places it in Harry’s lap. He tilts Harry’s chin up and leans in to press their lips together with much less vigor than he knows is appropriate.

“Just something small that reminded me of you,” Niall kisses the corner of his mouth and leaves one more kiss on his warm cheek.

Harry looks down blankly and carefully opens the box.

Perfume, _Rose d'Arabie_ by Giorgio Armani to be exact.

This is not something small. This tiny bottle is more or less five hundred dollars and Harry’s heart longs to swell at the gift, but his brain reminds him that Niall does this often.

Harry stares at the black bottle of cologne in his hands, but his eyes wander up and stop at the dresser before him. There are small perfume bottles lined up across the surface, mockingly showing him that the bottle in his hands is nothing special.

“Put some on,” Niall says, standing on the bed with his knees and beginning to unbutton Harry’s shirt from behind.

His hands slide down Harry’s exposed chest and his fingers grip the black belt encircling his waist. This would have been a sexy moment where Harry sprays the cologne on himself and then Niall fucks into him until the smell clings to his own body when they break apart. But everything plays in slow motion for Harry. He barely notices when Niall pulls the bottle out of his hands and douses his wrists and neck in the gorgeous scent. It’s sensual yet musky with hints of delicate rose and it embodies everything Harry is to Niall.

Niall pushes Harry on his back and moves on top of him. He rolls Harry’s shirt off his shoulders and he savors the image of Harry’s sculpted torso while he unbuckles his belt and tugs the tight pants down his legs. 

Niall follows the predictable mantra of undressing the both of them while he steals kisses here and there, until he finally has his head inside Harry and the younger man is almost limp in bed allowing whatever comes next, but still trying to keep up as if he was still mentally there.

Harry reaches between them and tries to pull himself off while Niall fucks into him, but he suddenly remembers that he shook _her_ hand with the same hand he’s using and now it feels like she’s there with them because she basically was. She was probably in this room—maybe ten minutes ago—as she got ready for her day and now her husband is balls deep in his ‘intern.’

Harry quickly pulls his hand away and yanks at his hair because he wants to scream but his throat tightens even more. Harry presses his fingers to his eyes because he can feel the familiar sting of tears forming and he doesn’t want to cry but his breathing is already picking up and he knows his state is irreversible at this point.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Niall begins to notice how withdrawn and quiet Harry is. Harry usually echoes confidence and sexual fantasy in the bedroom, so this overcast of drag and despair has finally clouded his vision.

Harry sniffles under Niall and rubs at his eyes vigorously. 

“ _Baby_ ,” Niall repeats, “Am I being too rough?” He quickly pulls out and takes Harry’s face in his hands.

Harry shakes his head.

“Then what is it? Talk to me, Harry.”

Harry averts his eyes from Niall’s worried expression and stares to the side of the room. How Harry got this far in bed is unfathomable to him. Niall patiently waits for him to say something, but he doesn’t so Niall sighs and rolls off the bed to stand at the edge.

“Maybe a shower can help clear your head, then—”

“I shouldn’t even be here,” Harry interrupts, sitting up and gripping the sheets when blood rushes from his head.

Niall stares at him for a beat, “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re _married_ , Niall! Does that ever cross your fucking mind?” Harry grits through his teeth. “None of this is mine.” Arms widen to emphasize the contents of the room, “You aren’t mine.”

“What do you mean I’m not yours?” Niall growls, “You’re mine and I’m yours.”

“I can’t be yours when you’re with someone else.”

“Harry,” Niall sighs and kneels in front of him, “Nous sommes faits l'un pour l'autre.”

Harry’s face falls directly into his hands and his body feels heavy with rage.

“Just because you say cute shit in French doesn’t make everything okay.” 

“Me giving a shit about you isn’t okay? You’re insane.” 

“What’s insane is you making me believe that I’m the only person you care about.”

“Harry, what the hell are you talking about? I love you. When have I ever made you doubt my love for you?” Niall crosses his arms and glares at the boy in front of him.

“You’re still married, and you can’t have both of us.”

“I give you anything and everything you want, therefore I am entitled to you.” Business Niall speaks before regular Niall can even compose his thoughts.

“You’re an idiot. A selfish idiot,” Harry spits and stands from the bed.

Niall’s face does not falter. He remains composed as if those words had no affect on him. 

“When the debate is over, slander becomes the tool of the loser.”

Harry grimaces at Niall’s words, “Really, Niall? I’m a philosophy major, don’t go all Socrates on my ass.”

“You are so much smarter than this, Harry,” Niall takes two steps towards him and grasps his chin, “Don’t ever talk to me like that again.”

Niall gives one last stern look at Harry, before pulling on his briefs and walking out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Harry blinks at the door and then proceeds to collapse on the bed.

Harry knows Niall won’t be crying, he just bites his lip and stares off into the distance for a bit when he’s upset. Harry, on the other hand, rolls under the covers and cries into the pillow that smells like Niall. 

The last time they fought was when Niall took them both out for coffee and Harry unintentionally flirted with the barista. Niall was angry and barely spoke to him when they got back to his apartment. Harry tried to apologize (for nothing), but Niall is stubborn and simply pushed him down to his knees and told him to suck him off. Once Harry wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, Niall tucked himself away and suggested Harry go home before locking himself in his office.

He’s only cold when he senses hints of Harry being promiscuous, which are rare because Harry would never dare to be involved with anyone else when he knows Niall is always waiting for him. 

Harry cries himself out until his breathing slows down and he can clearly see the wall in front of him without it being blurry. His eyes are puffy and he knows he looks like a mess, but it’s time to find Niall. Harry pushes the comforter off his body and grabs for his briefs on the floor. It’s obvious where Niall went, so he slowly stalks out of the room and down the hallway.

Niall sits at the desk in his office; he has a lamp dimly lit and his legs are crossed with a book in his lap. Glasses are perched on his nose and his face reads as if he wasn’t angry moments ago.

Harry spends a solid three minutes just watching from the doorway and building the courage to enter the room, but Niall finally looks up and summons him to enter after he puts his book down.

“Ready to talk,” Niall raises his eyebrow, “Civilly?” 

Harry nods and moves to sit on the couch in the office, but Niall beckons him to follow him back to the bedroom. Niall has mentioned before that he avoids conversations in the office because it feels like he’s at work.

They sit on the bed and Harry immediately starts, “I’m jealous.”

The waterworks begin as well and Harry is rubbing at his eyes in no time, “I hate being the ‘other one’. I don’t see the point in going behind someone’s back for you when I could just as easily be in an open relationship with someone else.”

Niall’s heart falters, but it starts beating normally again when Harry continues.

“Then I think about the fact that I am so undeniably in love with you, that I’d rather endure this pain if it means I end up with you. I wouldn’t want to force you into anything, but in my mind I only see one solution… and that’s you ending everything with her and staying with me.”

Niall’s hands have found their way to Harry’s thighs and he pulls him closer until he’s basically in his lap.

“You are everything to me, Harry. I only truly love you, but the thing that concerns me most is your age,” Niall rubs the back of Harry’s hands with his thumbs. “Things change, including our preferences. What if by the time I divorce her, you’ve moved on? What if I put in all this work and you decide I’m something you don’t want anymore?”

It’s a rhetorical question because Niall knows that Harry will always love him, but the eight year age difference creates a bridge between them that Niall is afraid Harry will never be able to cross. What can someone in their twenties ever have in common with someone basically in their thirties?

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“How do you know that for sure? You’re allowed to see other people, Harry,” Niall bites his lip and closes his eyes. “I don’t want you to, but I understand if that’s something you might want to do given our situation. If you’re not the only person in my life, then I can’t expect you to be tied down to just me.”

Harry looks at Niall like he’s lost his mind. The reason why he’s been going practically insane these past weeks is because he doesn’t know how to function anymore with the recurring realization that Niall is not completely his.

“No.”

“No?”

“No, Niall. How can you even say that?” Tears roll down Harry’s very red cheeks, “I only want you. I love you, but I don’t feel like I can continue this if she’s always someone we have to keep in the back of our minds. I know I sound selfish, but I’ve been sharing you for six months too long and I don’t want to anymore.”

Niall stares at him and in all seriousness he asks, “So, what do you want me to do?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and moves to rest his forehead on Niall’s shoulder but a pair of hands stop him and keep his head upright.

“I want you to get a divorce,” he cries, feeling ridiculous to be asking this of Niall.

Niall goes quiet, and it’s everything Harry doesn’t want. He wants to hear him preferably agree and promise to always be his, but he silently watches Harry wipe at his tears and try to kiss anywhere on Niall’s face and neck.

“I want you. All of you,” Harry sobs, “Please, Niall.”

Harry’s hands gently tug at Niall’s hair and then paw at his chest in an attempt to pull him closer. Any distance between them is going to drive him more mad than he already is.

"I'll leave her," Niall whispers against his desperate lips, "I love you, my darling. Whether it is official or not, I am undoubtedly all yours."

Niall kisses Harry on the tip of his red nose, leading Harry to release another wave of sobs that he hides in Niall’s neck.

“I need you,” Harry whimpers. “I need you right now, Niall. Right fucking now.”

“What do you want?”

Niall’s voice is so soft, gentle, and caring that Harry simply does not have words, so he uses his body. He wraps his arms tightly around Niall and pulls him until their lips crash and their hips are pressed together. He plants his feet on the mattress and grinds his hips upward, giving Niall all the clues he needs.

“Come here then,” Niall chuckles, putting his arm around Harry’s lower back and shuffles them up the bed as one unit. He kisses Harry senseless until he asks him of one more thing, “If I go through with this, promise that you won’t leave me.”

Harry is instantly pulling him down for more kisses while he breathily claims, “Of course I promise. I would never imagine of leaving you.”

Niall pulls away from Harry’s mouth and instead directs kisses down his flat abs, pausing at the band of his boxers before he pulls them down for the second time this night. The older man’s breath quickens and he rests his forehead against Harry’s lower stomach. Harry fondly brushes through his blonde hair with his fingers and waits for him to continue. Niall finally pushes himself up the bed and places his hands on either side of Harry’s head so they are facing each other when he whispers:

“ _Cela se termine avec vous et moi_.”

Harry finally smiles and let’s Niall take complete control as usual. Legs spread wide open, Harry closes his eyes and trusts Niall to ruin him tonight.

“ _Je t'aime_ ,” Harry moans in searing pleasure as he melts into the sheets one more time.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to ease into writing again so forgive me if this is rough but there isn't enough sugar daddy niall fics to quench my thirst so im writing my own! Thank you for reading I hope you thoroughly enjoyed this and the other parts to come!


End file.
